


Dinner for my Love

by xAbsinthexx



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Food, Funny, Jokes, M/M, Romance, ha ha ha - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 16:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8761342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xAbsinthexx/pseuds/xAbsinthexx
Summary: Jack cooks Mark dinner.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writeasoph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeasoph/gifts).



> I wasn't going to upload this, but after a second look, I decided it wasn't so bad.
> 
> Based on an actual conversation between writeasoph and I.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated!

“Mark, dinner’s ready!” Jack called from the bottom of the stairs.

“Be down in a minute!” Mark replied, setting aside his headphones and turning off his monitor. He promptly returned to his feet with a curse, a loud ‘crack’ resonating somewhere from his lower back. 

“I’m too old for this shit,” Mark mumbled, only loud enough for his sound-proofed walls to pick up on.

A few seconds later, Mark flew down the flight of stairs that led to his recording room, and was quickly hit in the face with a delicious smell he instantaneously knew was one of his many favourite meals; roast with carrots, turnip, and potatoes. His stomach rumbled in anticipation.

“Hey love,” Jack purred, walking up to greet Mark with a quick peck on the cheek, quickly screwing up his face afterwards at the itchy stubble that grazed his lips. “Promis’ me you'll never shave again, Jaysus!” 

“Maybe I will, just to spite you,” Mark retorted, rubbing his chin on the Irishman’s exposed neck, making him jump back.

Jack frowned, massaging the sore skin, “Some start to a romantic night, asshole.”

Mark furrowed his brows in confusion, before his eyes adjusted to the sight around him.

The lights were dimmed, the only source being a few candles strategically placed on a table in the nearby dining room. He felt his cheeks flush, Jack was too good for him.

Mark was vaguely aware of a hand wrapped around his own, leading him towards the shadowy table, dressed with the food that teased his nostrils only seconds prior. 

“Thanks, Jack,” Mark said in between smiles, sitting in the chair across from his boyfriend.

“Anytime. Now eat, I know ya haven't eaten all day.” Jack said, digging into his own food like it was his last meal.

The American looked down at his plate and grinned once more at the sight. It was cooked perfectly, except…

“Jack, what's this?” Mark asked, poking at an odd bun looking figure.

“Yorkshire pudding, it's traditional.” The green-haired man said between mouthfuls.

Mark made a face at how it jiggled when he poked it with his fork, but shrugged and bit into a slab of beef roast instead, saving the 'best' for last.

The two ate in silence, cracking a joke every now and then until their plates were empty.

Almost.

Mark finally stabbed his fork into the last object that resided in his plate, making a dissatisfied grunt at the movement. Slowly, he bit into it, all while Jack watched in amusement.

“What the fuck?” Mark muttered, almost gagging at the horrific taste that assaulted his tongue. The pudding became offended and fell off his fork, back into the pool of gravy with a wet, ‘slap’

By this time, Jack was almost red with laughter, having knocked over his glass of water at the look on his boyfriend’s face.

Mark stabbed the pudding with a fork, slowly sliding it away from him. He shivered slightly.

“Be nice to th’yorkshire pudding, you bitch!” Jack yelled in faux-disapproval, fully aware that this, ‘delicacy’ was an acquired taste.

“You eat it then, I don't fucking want it!” Mark said, face still twisted in disgust as he choked down another bite, as to make sure his taste buds did not lie to him “Tastes like chewy flower…”

“Crispy,” Jack corrected, stealing Mark’s second yorkshire and taking a large bite out of it.

“The gravy makes it soggy,” Mark whined, still chewing his previous offence, and swallowing dramatically.

Jack hummed at him with a grin plastered to his face, finishing off what remained on his fork, “I think s’delicious.”

Mark gaped at the man enjoying such a horrendous taste, before throwing down his fork in defeat. “Fuck yorkshire pudding.”

“Sounds kinky,” Jack replied, not missing a beat.

Mark groaned loudly, and Jack chuckled, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and planting a quick kiss on it.

“C’mon, let's go watch a movie, I made dessert!” Jack sprang to his feet, opening the fridge.

Mark lit up, glad to have something to wash his mouth out, “What is it?” 

“Yorkshire pie.” Jack answered, swaying his butt suggestively.

Mark slapped it.


End file.
